


"You rash boy"

by Abyssiniana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BOM!Keith, Fluff, Love, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro lost bits of memory during his year in captivity, THEY DESERVE IT, they need to Rest, vld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 03:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssiniana/pseuds/Abyssiniana
Summary: A few ticks in the healing pod would’ve been easier. Faster. Less painful. But the feeling of those hands on his body again convinced him that he would have it no other way.





	"You rash boy"

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Травмоопасный](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865649) by [voltsvyak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voltsvyak/pseuds/voltsvyak)



> My "Keith" has been feeling down so I, as her loving "Shiro", wrote her a little drabble to take care of her wounds.

A few ticks in the healing pod would’ve been easier. Faster. Less painful. But the feeling of those hands on his body again convinced him that he would have it no other way.

~*~

“C’mon, hold still.”

“I’m fine!”, the boy insisted, wincing in pain as the disinfectant dipped cotton ball met his wound. It was but a little cut and scrap, nothing time wouldn’t heal on its own, but his senior demanded that it was treated.

“Keith, you’re acting like a baby.”

There was kindness in his tone, a smile behind his sternness, so Keith puffed his cheeks and tried to remain as still as he possibly could, reducing his whining to little more than low occasional grunts, tears drying in his lashes before having the chance to snake down his cheeks.

He didn’t want Takashi Shirogane to think he was a cry baby.

A misplaced word at the Garrison academy culminated in a fight between classmates, one Keith got inevitably caught up in. He had been pushed, and his knee scrapped in one of the many machineries that enhanced the content of their astrophysics class. It was nothing serious, but it was protocol to be taken to the infirmary, or so his dear friend and secret crush claimed as he carried him to the facilities and took the dressing into his own hands. After a few minutes, he was all done, leg wiggling like nothing had happened. His lips parted to mumble out a “thank you” but were silenced by Shiro’s act.

A kiss was pressed over the bandage, the Japanese’s thick thumb caressing his calf in a manner almost affectionate. Keith’s face became as red as the sunset that bled into the horizon, all the way to his ears.

“There you go, you rash boy. Be more careful next time.”

~*~

These days his body was covered in more serious wounds. Deep hematomas darkened the pale skin in purple hues, untreated cuts permanently scarring his body, a piercing ache resulting from that one fight where had to force his dislocated shoulder back in place on his own. There was little Shiro could do with a first-aid kit, but it seemed to be a matter of either pride or… something else.

It occurred to Keith that maybe Shiro wanted to prolong his temporary stay at the Lion’s Castle by personally attending to the damage in his body.

“Argh!”, he cowered, frowning fiercely as Shiro simply smiled and proceeded to cleanse the open cut on his torso. Just like that time, a certain tenderness behind acts of solid harshness.

“Stand still or you’ll make it worse.”

“… Yes, sir.”

The end of that dialogue earned them the silence they both needed; Shiro to focus on the disinfection and Keith to dwell in self-pity and memories of the past.

Would Shiro ever remember? Was Keith ever as important as he believed to the other male? He couldn’t even begin to guess what his senior went through during that year of captivity; the Galra were cruel and vicious and for Shiro to return with so many scars, a body altered by their means, a patch of hair turned white due to either genetic experiments or perhaps a vivid case of the Marie Antoinette syndrome…

He missed Shiro. _His_ Shiro. He missed the man with stars in his eyes and not in his hands. The fate of the universe rested on the shoulders of one very tired man and his team of inexperienced pilots, danger was more imminent every varga that passed. Was that young pilot ever going to return?

Was his loving hero still in there somewhere?

Shiro’s now bi-colored hair lowered in an angle that alarmed the newest member of the Blades, whose blue eyes widened to see his face so close to his newly wrapped wound.

The kiss, however delicate, hurt more than the wound itself; Shiro had no memory of that time on Earth he attended Keith’s bruises, and so he mocked the youngster without knowing, by repeating the same words and gestures.

The same love.

The tears that were taught to dry on their own ran fresh once more, and Keith fell forward to hide his face on the other Paladin’s chest.

“There you go, you rash boy. Be more careful next time.”


End file.
